anything to get one on the devil

anonymous asked:

Would you please do harry potter?

beautiful child

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
best quality: the fact that he is willing to break rules and shit in order to get to the bottom of something, i love that about him
worst quality: he can be an arrogant butthole… he can also be really clueless
ship them with: no one I’m still in book 4 oops
brotp them with: Hermione, Ron, Hagrid
needs to stay away from:
Voldemort, Snape, Umbridge just bc I haven’t read book 5 doesn’t mean i don’t know anything about the devil named Dolores Umbridge
misc. thoughts: he cool, I would honestly love to have hims as a friend, even tho my life would be at risk but eh


A ‘What If’ scenario that wouldn’t leave my head. I really doubt anything like this would ever happen, but what if Bendy and Boris had really different points of view on the whole studio and what happened there. Boris willing to forgive, forget, and move on, and Bendy…very much the opposite of all that!

So if Henry started working together with Boris things could get bad…really fast. With how irrational I usually think of him, Bendy would probably feel quite betrayed as well.

The Types and Their Level of Scariness
  • INTJ: At first they might seem worrisome because of their intense stare and nihilistic sentiments, but all it takes is one harsh critique about something important to them and they'll crumble. Their bark is infinitely worse than their bite. Will write a series of salty "blind item" blog entries about you for months. 6/10; too passive-aggressive to be truly scary.
  • INFJ: Hard to get to know, but when they like you, they REALLY like you and you'd better not do anything to break their trust because all of those warm, fuzzy feelings will 180 into pure end-times-level wrath. If you've ever encountered an angry INFJ, you've seen the face of the devil himself. 10/10; scary af
  • ENTJ: While they're capable of verbally disemboweling someone they dislike, they won't actually come after you unless they're bored and feel like starting drama for shits and giggles. Threw a punch once and didn't like it too much. Will tell you to go choke on a bag of dicks with the biggest, brightest smile on their face. 6/10; scary only in theory
  • ENFJ: They love you so, SO much and they want you to do your absolute BEST at EVERYTHING you EVER do like REALLY really, so when you don't meet their expectations, they will get more and more assertive about you achieving your dreams (read: their dreams) until they eventually snap and stab you to death in your sleep. 9/10; file a restraining order and you might be okay.
  • INTP: Too lazy to truly get mad about anything. The only really scary thing about INTPs is their complete disregard for cleanliness. You'll find Chinese takeout boxes from six months ago covered in maggots by their bed, but you won't find nary a discouraging word coming out of their mouths. Only does damage to living things in RPGs. 2/10; scary hygiene but harmless.
  • INFP: Is someone who spends a lot of time writing poetry, getting drunk and crying hysterically about things that happened ten years ago really that scary? I mean, they'll probably throw a whiskey glass or a vase in your general direction and curse you out for a solid ten minutes, but then they'll go right back to crying in fetal position. 4/10; just walk away, dude.
  • ENTP: They'll fuck with you just for the sake of having something to do that day. They'll fuck with you sometimes for no reason whatsoever. They fuck with people because it's just in their nature. Occasionally they'll take things too far and you'll wind up in the hospital but probably never in a morgue. Might send you flowers during your hospital stay. 8/10; scary neurotic
  • ENFP: They're either your best friend or your worst enemy and there is literally no in-between. Sometimes they'll get mad at you for reasons you don't even understand. Rarely ever will they try to physically harm you, though. They'll just whine about "fake people" in their DeviantART journal and mope about for a long time before randomly deciding you're their friend again. 4/10; Super confusing but not scary.
  • ISTJ: The embodiment of "walk softly and carry a big stick". Will sit outside of your bedroom window for days with a shotgun, ready for you to make a wrong move so they can blow you to smithereens. Don't try calling the police, because they're probably a police officer or at least connected to one in some way. In other words, you're fucked. 10/10; lawful evil personified.
  • ISFJ: They love you with all their hearts but they also hate the things you do, ie "love the sin, hate the sinner". Usually harmless, but some of them quickly lose their shit when double-crossed. Might mix poison in your sweet tea and then bury you underneath a bed of roses in the backyard. Prays for your certainly-damned soul every night before supper. 7/10, only scary when provoked.
  • ESTJ: Their big mouths and intense, confrontational attitudes can put the fear of God into you, but for an ESTJ to truly be scary, they'd have to physically harm you and they don't want to jeopardize their careers over something that foolish. Will judge you hardcore from afar but that's about it. 5/10; talks shit but you won't get hit.
  • ESFJ: They're the undisputed champions of guilt-trips, and they'll guilt-trip you over things so incessantly that you might suffer a loss of self-worth in the process, which could lead to severe depression and no will to live. Will attend your post-suicide funeral in a really expensive dress and tell mourners how you could have "really been something". 6/10; scary shady
  • ISTP: No chill towards people they dislike. They will straight-up brutalize your ass in one-on-one combat and you will lose. Will put you in the hospital, wait until you've been released, and THEN put you in a morgue. Probably will laugh about killing you over cold ones with the boys for decades to come. 10/10; cold-blooded killers.
  • ISFP: There is no such thing as a scary ISFP. They might get hurt with you but they just let that shit go after a while. More likely to channel their negative feelings into an artistic outlet than something destructive. No time for pettiness or holding grudges. 0/10; anti-scary saviors
  • ESTP: Also has no chill towards people they dislike, but their hair-brained schemes at revenge are often poorly executed. Will threaten to "beat your ass" for months but won't actually do it unless they're drunk or high. Once they do get physically aggressive towards you though, you are deader than dead. 7/10; flee town before things escalate.
  • ESFP: Often incorrigibly shallow, they'll start rumors to sully the reputation of their enemies before they'd actually consider getting their hands dirty. Rarely ever starts fights but they sure do love jumping into other peoples' fights and finishing them. Will get one of their besties to film the entire beat-down and put it on Snapchat. Hair and makeup somehow stays flawless the entire time. 3/10; more petty than scary.
Good Little Angel

Word count: 2,034

Warning: smut, little bit of fluff, teasing, dom!Lucifer, sub!Lucifer

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Summary/Request: Thank you @curlyxtomato for your request!

Lucifer has to help the Winchesters but there is some awkwardness when Y/N realises that he is an old hook up of hers. Leads to some passionate sex and a lot of teasing and self-denial.

Originally posted by lucifersagents

“We’re working with you, not because we want to, but because we have to.” Dean sighed.

You were currently sitting beside an agitated Sam who was trying his best not to look over the table at none other than Lucifer himself.

“It’s good to see you guys too.” Lucifer grinned. You scoffed. Immediately his head spun round to see you, now trying to sink into your seat subtly. “Oh I know you love having me around Y/N. You find me irresistible.” He almost sneered at you.

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Sneak Pt. 2 [M]

Summary: Power and seduction are a lethal mix, especially when you work at one of the world’s most powerful corporations. But be careful, because someone is always watching. 

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: ceo!namjoon, dom/sub themes, smut, angst

Word Count: 7,253

A/N: this is unedited. I can’t look at it any longer as this took me 2 weeks to write. If there any mistakes, please let me know haha

Originally posted by jackjacky5

Part 1 Part 2

You run your fingertips along the tender parts of your neck. A knot had formed under your skin weeks ago. You really needed to get that checked out, but you also really needed to meet your deadline. At this point your work was more important than your health. There was a lot riding on this project, a possible entire rebranding of one of the most powerful companies in the world. And you were the one responsible.

There were times when you were in the middle of a long stretch of work when the night on his desk would flash through your mind. You would think about the wood pressed against your back in the middle of analyzing sales figures for the past 10 years. You could feel his breath on your throat in the middle of sending one of board members a strongly worded e-mail.

You hated how every touch was imprinted in the back of your brain. The asshole in Armani was in your head every time you closed your eyes. Your body started to tingle every time you passed by his office, knowing that maple desk was on the other side of it’s walls.

You hated it.

You hadn’t seen him since that night. He was conveniently shipped out overseas to check on some of the international branches of the corporation he inherited. You were glad, for the most part. It gave you time to detach yourself from that night and bury yourself in your work. Hoping that by the time he came back to the office you wouldn’t want to shove him against a wall and repeat the night on the desk.

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reasons to read/watch One Piece

  • there’s an 8 foot tall talking singing skeleton with an afro who makes bad puns all the time what’s there not to love
  • there’s a 7 foot tall cyborg who hates pants and says super a lot and he’s powered by cola
  • sky islands
  • at one point someone turns into a giraffe and it’s hilarious but then the giraffe guy actually cuts a building in half because he got pissed at everyone (including his own partner) for not taking his giraffe form seriously. one of his attacks was called “pasta machine
  • the main character is canonically asexual/aromantic. one time he saw the world’s most beautiful woman half naked and his response was “Huh? Why are you naked? Where’s the food?”
  • this series will make you cry over boats and whales. and dogs. and reindeer. and hats
  • none of the main characters have a real romance or romantic relationship with anyone
  • USOPP his whole introduction arc is about him lying to a girl to make her feel better because she had depression, and it was working. (his “lies“ are larger than life stories about him as a kid pirate)
  • there’s a guy named Buggy the Clown and he actually looks like a clown but not out of choice he was born with a big red nose and he gets pissed whenever people mention it (or sound like they mention it)
  • exploding ghosts
  • evil ventriloquist puppet pigeons that may or may not actually be evil
  • one guy’s devil fruit power is to eat anything and then turn into what he eats and it’s actually a pretty dangerous power
  • all the emphasis is on familial love and friendship
  • did i mention that one character is a tiny cute reindeer who’s also a very, very good doctor
  • ANCIENT CONSPIRACY THEORIES like there’s this whole century of history that’s been erased by the World Government and its forbidden to study it
  • there are also these things called Poneglyphs that are indestructible stones with ancient language written on them and they come from that blank century and no one is allowed to study them. the World Government says b/c of the Ancient Weapons that the Poneglyphs talk about (which are real) but in reality they don’t want the information on the people and country the stones originated from to become known knowledge. the world government literally burned down an entire island and wiped it from the map for doing this
  • devil fruit powers okay some of them are really cool like turning into fire or magma or causing earthquakes, but then there’s stuff like turning into a giraffe, slowing things down, being rubber, returning from the dead, controlling/becoming a ghost, controlling shadows, SPROUTING LIMBS FROM ANY SURFACE, secreting poison, being able to cut people up without killing them and switching their body parts around and switching their personalities. one character can control hormones and another can turn his hands into giant scissors. and the thing is, ALL THESE POWERS ARE STILL REALLY DANGEROUS
  • Water Luffy. Luffy is impaled by a giant hook at one point and almost dies and then like literally a day later he shows up with a giant barrel of water b/c the villain’s weakness is water. but the villain can also absorb water, so Luffy does the logical thing and CHUGS THE WHOLE BARREL OF WATER UNTIL HE LOOKS LIKE A HUMAN WATER BALLOON AND THEN HE STARTS LEAKING FROM THE VERY SERIOUS WOUND THAT NEARLY KILLED HIM AND SAYS “AHH!! I SPRUNG A LEAK!!”
  • this quote: “When does a man die? When he’s struck by a deadly disease? No. When he’s shot through the heart with a pistol? No. when eh eats soup made from a poisonous mushroom? No!! A Man dies… when people forget him.”
  • you’ll cry over that mushroom
  • Luffy’s idea of an insult is calling a guy who uses three-sword style “four -sword style”
  • also one guy holds a sword in each hand and one in his mouth and it’s badass as fuck i kid you not
  • literally no plot device is forgotten like everything mentioned at one point WILL COME BACK. one time a character was shown in a tiny panel in a super short flashback in chapter 13 or so, and then like 400-500 chapters later TURNS OUT THAT RANDOM BACKGROUND CHARACTER IS ACTUALLY A MAJOR CHARACTER
  • Angels!! Giants!! Dwarfs!! Long armed people!! Long legged people!! Minks!! Fishman!! there’s so many different species it’s great

The first night his boyfriend didn’t come back to the dorm, Other Red (Red had already been the name of a student when Other Red was a freshman, and changing your nickname too much wasn’t the best idea) didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t unheard of for one or the other of them to spend a night with friends. But when he wasn’t there the next morning, or in their one shared class that day, Other Red started to worry. As spacey as Frankie Lee could be, he was an avid student. Frankie Lee wasn’t his real name, of course. It wasn’t a surprise to those who knew him that his taken name was musically inspired. He wasn’t answering his phone, either. When there was still no sign of him on the third day, Other Red started asking around. He found what he needed to know pretty soon.

“Yeah, the last time I saw him was a couple days ago.”

“Where was he?”

“Over by the track, by that little wooded area. He had his guitar.”

“He was going towards the trees? Sounds like he was looking for a quiet place to write songs.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“So he went, alone, into the forest, to play music?”

“Looks like.”



Other Red didn’t waste much time. He packed what he needed, knocked on his RA’s door so someone would know where he was going (and so they’d be better prepared to notice if it wasn’t him that came back), and headed for the woods. All this wasn’t strictly necessary, since the RAs would go retrieve Frankie Lee at the end of the semester, but he might be… different by then, and Other Red didn’t want to wait that long to see him again anyway. He walked right into the shade of the trees, and kept going until he couldn’t see the edge of the woods behind him, though the forest he’d walked into was maybe forty feet across. Nowhere on the Elsewhere University campus was a surefire route to danger, if you knew what you were doing, just as nowhere was 100 percent safe if you were reckless enough, but going under the trees to play music? Other Red had to admit that had been stupid. He loved Frankie Lee, but he could be lacking in common sense.


As he went, Other Red reminded himself of a story. There was a smith, so the story goes, who made a deal. Who or what he made the deal with changes from telling to telling, but a popular version calls it the Devil. Other Red didn’t know about devils, but any Elsewhere U student knew there were other things you could make deals with. The smith gave up his soul in exchange for supernatural skill at metal work - the ability to weld anything to anything. When the Devil came to collect, though, the smith welded him to a tree and left him there. It’s an old story, one of the oldest, in fact. It’s been told for six thousand years. The story told Other Red a couple of things. One, that metalwork has always been a little bit Else, and two, that it was one way, maybe the first way we ever found, to get a bit of power over the Gentry. At least enough power to get him out of this.

He hoped it was enough to get him out of this.


After a while, he could hear music softly through the trees. He walked closer until he could make out the words:

Then the loud sound did seem to fa-a-ade
Came back like a slow voice on a wave of pha-a-ase
That weren’t no D.J. that was hazy cosmic jive
There’s a starman waiting in the sky
He’d like to come and meet us
But he thinks he’d blow our minds…

Other Red could practically see Frankie Lee, eyes closed and head nodding the way he did when he got into his music. He’d smile, and, if he wasn’t playing too, wave his hands slowly like the music was the only thing in the world. Then Other Red reached the clearing where the music was coming from, and he did see Frankie Lee, sitting and playing at the feet of the member of the Court that had taken him.

Less Starman, Other Red thought, and more Thin White Duke. Thin he certainly was, or maybe a better word was long, half again Other Red’s height with his legs - how many knees was that? - stretched out from his seat, which was carved from an enormous tree stump into intricate, disturbing patterns. He was pale, with a human face but a goat’s disdainful eyes, and he wore leather armor with what looked like a bronze sword on his belt. Other Red stepped into the clearing.

The Gentleman held up a hand, and Frankie Lee stopped playing, though his eyes had been closed. When he saw Other Red, he perked up and made eye contact with him, but didn’t speak.

“What brings you here?” asked the Fair One with disinterest.

Other Red indicated Frankie Lee. “I’d like him back.”

“And what will you give me not to simply keep you here as well?”

“I have nothing to give you, but I bring the tokens of my craft.” From his bag, he pulled a welding mask and a handful of nails. “I’m a shop student. If you don’t let me leave, there will be repercussions.” He tried to keep his voice as confident as he could.

The Shining One stared at him for a long moment, then sat back. “You may leave whenever you please, smith, but you cannot command me to give up my musician.”

Other Red had been expecting that. “A game, then?”

“A game. Very well.” said the Good Neighbor instinctively, and then, coming to himself, “What game do you choose?”

Other Red pulled out the other thing he had packed, and tossed it towards the Blessed One. “Fifth Edition, no expansions. One session, seventh-level characters, fight to the character death. I’ll see you a week from today at eight.” He bent down to quickly kiss Frankie Lee, then turned and left.


He’d afforded a week because, as much as he wanted Frankie Lee back right now, he needed time to find a DM who was willing to run this fight. Eventually, a girl named Tyto agreed to do it, for approximately a shitton of carefully-specified snacks. This wasn’t the first time someone had played D&D with one of the Gentry. Sometimes, as now, students figured it was the best chance they had of getting something out of them. Other Red’s challenge was a little unusual in that regard - most such games were essentially attempts to impress the Shining Ones with your storytelling talent. They had great respect for storytellers, and a skilled DM could easily get into their good books. Sometimes, They took a liking to the game, and played just for the sake of playing. Other Red had heard of a campaign that met once a month, on the new moon, where students regularly played alongside their Neighbors. Other Red wasn’t making this a storytelling competition, though. He wasn’t a DM, and he wanted a contest he could win.

On the appointed night, they set up in the game room and waited. Other Red wasn’t using his regular character, Ambrose the halfling rogue, for this. It was stupid, but he didn’t want to to let Them know even that fictional real name. Plus, he felt that if he did lose the fight, Ambrose might somehow be dead for good. He’d rolled up a human bard just for the occasion. It seemed appropriate.

At exactly eight, the Duke walked in. He looked more human here, though he was still morning-frost sharp and pale. He was wearing a black suit, and had his hair in a long braid. Tyto shifted in her chair as he walked past her. Other Red offered him a bag of Doritos. Ritual was important, after all. “Given without obligation,” he added.

“Most kind,” said the Visitor, as he took the bag and produced his character sheet. Other Red looked over it briefly. Tiefling druid. Made sense.

“Well then,” said Tyto. “Let’s get started. You’re standing in the street of a small town. You’ve just gotten into a confrontation in a tavern and decided to take it outside. Roll for initiative.”


The fight started out slow and cautious. Both characters had swords, and their initial actions were simple. Attack, roll for damage. Attack, roll for damage. Attack, miss. Attack… As they played, they drew an audience. Not students. Any student who knew what was happening tonight had made plans far, far away. There was a man with hair the color of the sea. Two identical-looking girls, neither of their hands quite right. When they walked in, they were followed by a fox that sat quietly and comfortably on a chair. They all watched in silence as the players spoke their battle into being.

Eventually, Other Red’s opponent seemed to get tired of this pattern. “I cast Flame Blade,” he said, “and attack with it.”
Now they were playing with magic. Other Red surrounded the druid with a cloud of daggers. The druid turned into an eagle and dive-bombed the bard. The audience began to stir. This was almost as exciting as the real thing. A few of them could remember when Gwion and Ceridwen tried the same routine. The bard cast a spell of fear to send the eagle flying away, and another spell to deal it damage. The eagle became a boar and charged the bard.

That was two. He was out of transformations. This was what Other Red had been waiting for. “I cast Dimension Door,” he announced, “on both of us.”

“O… K,” said Tyto.  “You both move to..?”
“500 feet directly above us. And as we start to fall, I cast Feather Fall on myself only.”

Tyto and the Fair One both stopped as they realized what he’d done. “So,” Tyto said to the Gentleman, “You’re falling 500 feet. Do you have anything that might help with that?”

“I do not.”

“Then if you’re alright with it, I don’t think we need to roll to know that you’re pretty dead.”
“No.” He stood up and offered Other Red his hand. “How inventive. The musician is yours.” He left the room without another word, and the audience followed behind. After a moment, the door opened again and Frankie Lee stumbled in. He was shivering, with snow melting on his shoulders and water droplets clinging to his tightly curled hair. It was sixty degrees outside.

Other Red almost knocked his chair back standing up. He held Frankie Lee tightly for a long time, and then pulled away a little.

“What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know. How long was I gone?”

“About a week and a half. How long did you…?”

“Damn. I was only there for a couple of hours. I was starting to run out of Bowie. I tell you what, though, I think I finished that song I was working on.”

“If you finished it while you were There, you should maybe never play that part.”

“Good call.”


jungkook; morning kiss(es)

❝there’s no such thing as singular in jungkook’s book of kisses. only plural.
►1870 words // scenario
♡ this is for @cno-inbminor​ bc we reached our 200th day snapstreaksary (it’s a word i swear) and this is a little overdue but here it is i tried my best and it’s short but i LOVE YOU KAREN

Originally posted by officialwookkibby

Jungkook was a person who could be satisfied (and happy) with the littlest of things in life or, could find significance in anything he came across with. 

One, you (not to be taken literally but hey, he does use the benefit of being taller and you know when you’re shorter you have a better aim at his di-). Two, discounted prices on set meals he wants to eat. Three, finding a dollar lying on the floor and claiming it as his even though he knows damn well it fell from your purse but finders keepers losers weepers. Four, Jimin and Taehyung messing with Hoseok, only got get a beating after and his devil ass is watching from the side the whole time. And last but not least, sleeping until the sun breaks through the window and rakes his ass awake.

He was a heavy sleeper and that, ladies and gentlemen, was not a surprising thing at all. God no. Almost everyone around him had experienced troubles waking him up at least once (thrice) in their lifetime. As quoted from none other than Kim Seokjin and editing from Kim Namjoon: “That boy can sleep until the world burns down and he’ll wake up being alone.” (end scene)

It was all about getting used to, in your opinion. You’d gauge around the time he’d wake up and plan your day on from there. See, if you can’t change the boy’s habit, change the way you work things around. Simple. (unless you’re living with six other guys who gives no shit with your sleeping habits then kudos to you, good luck chap, better luck next life)

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American Heathens: Christo-paganism makes no sense, there’s no way a Tru™ Viking Warrior® would do anything like that!

“When in the seventh century King Redwald of East Anglia provided one altar in his church to sacrifice to Christ, and another small one to offer victims to devils, he was not behaving childishly, or cunningly hoping to get the best of both worlds, but merely acting according to normal Heathen custom.”
–H.R. Ellis-Davidson, Gods and Myths of Northern Europe, chapter 9, pp 219-220

Scheme: Part 3

When Jason Todd marries Ra’s Al Ghul’s daughter, he’s in for a wild ride. One he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Part 1, Part 2

“Can you not follow a plan?” Your voice is a screech. You know it is. Your sisters wince, but your father remains unfazed. He had never cared for your little “tantrums,” but he hadn’t stopped them either. Typically they led to someone’s death and in his eyes that was a step in the right direction. This time however, it could very well be his own.

    You had spent days working on that plan. Accounting for every little detail, except your father going rogue. The man had always stressed how important following orders was! And yet, he had blocked you, your sisters, and your nephew off to go after Joker himself. It infuriated you.

    Ra’s had never cared for the Joker. The clown was too unpredictable, and too crazy to control. You figured that’s why he had come in the first place. “I took care of it. You have my word. That should be enough.”

    You turn towards him eyes blazing, “Well it isn’t! I don’t trust you. Only an idiot would trust you! As far as I know you have him locked up somewhere to be unleashed at a later time!”

    Your sire lets out a sigh, “You are being dramatic.”

    You stare at him mouth open, before turning around, grabbing Damian by the collar and announcing, “We’re leaving.”

    “You forget about our bargain.”

    You turn to your father, “Our agreement was that you could meet my daughter if you helped me to complete my plan. You went off on your own and the plan went in the toilet. Too bad, so sad.”

    You drag Damian out of the warehouse and onto the street. The two of you take to the roof tops a minute later and run several miles before stopping. You need time to cool off. You know it won’t end well if you return to the manor angry. Jason had always been able to read you like a book.

“How long before he’s back?”

You glance at your nephew, “Six months tops. That clown is the best damn escape artist

I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Think Todd will know what we’ve been up to?”

You shrug, “It wouldn’t surprise me. Then again, Lee has him on some pretty heavy pain killers. So there’s a small chance he’ll still be loopy and oblivious.”

Damian scoffs, “You’re living in a dream world.”

You sigh, “Noted.”

The two of you sneak back into the manor without notice. Damian heads straight to his room, and you make you way to Jason’s. He’s propped up on the bed, a book in his hand. Without even looking at you, he simply holds out his hand. You take it before snuggling into his side.

His arm wraps around you, and he kisses the top of your head. Neither of you says anything, you simply wait for him to finish his chapter. When he closes his book he asks, “How’s your dad?”

You scowl, “A pain in my ass and the world’s biggest hypocrite.”

Jason smirks, “Did you make a deal with the devil?”  

You curl around your husband, “Nothing I couldn’t get out of.”

“I take that to mean he won’t be meeting our daughter.”

You smile, “She’s safe.”

“And our other child?”

You raise an eyebrow, “What other child are you speaking of? Last time I checked, we had only produced one progeny.”

Jason let’s out a laugh, “The one we were talking about having before this whole thing went down.”

You kiss your husband, before saying, “Nice try, but the doctor says you need rest.” You pull away and you’re off the bed a second later.

You listen to Jason groan as you slip into the bathroom. By the time you’re done showering and you’ve changed, Jason is asleep. You slip out of the room and down stairs to find your daughter. She’s lying on the rug, in the middle of the family room, coloring. Her uncles are passed out around her.

You lay down next to her, and stroke her hair. She leans into your touch and you smile. Scheme had been your new beginning. A chance at a new life. She and Jason were your whole world, and despite the path you and Jason had chosen you knew your daughter would choose differently. She was a kind hearted child, filled with smiles and laughter. She was a new start, and every time you looked at her you were reminded of what was good in the world.

The signs as I know them~

Completely based on personal experience.

Aries : The all time in for any game, happy and hyper. Actually emotional somewhere deep inside but won’t cry too much on anything. Cares about their obsession more than you thought.

Taurus : Finds hard to express emotions, sends memes and makes mildly funny jokes. Uses a lot of emojis and always asks,“which is better?”

Gemini : Always in a rush, doesn’t realize what they speak, makes the best late night conversations. Throws sarcasm as a note of love.

Cancer : Acts like they care, is actually having 7.5 reasons behind whatever they are doing. Will ask you for help and also help you if you need some. Tries to be nicer than they actually are.

Leo : Funny, will try to get you out of your comfort zone. Looks a little wierd for some reason. A love bubble, will be the first one to hug you if you cry.

Virgo : Drama queens. Actually organized, Judgemental sometimes. Cute and dorky, won’t play with other’s feelings but won’t keep things clear as well. Their room is neat but life is messed.

Libra : Talkative, always confused. Makes a joke of themselves and eats a lot. Will send you big messages explaining something, suggests movies, songs, ideas and what not but can never complete anything.

Scorpio : Fun, a little irritating at times (especially females). Won’t forget something you told them long back, that is irrelevant now. Has a thing for ‘roots’, holds strong personal beliefs. Isn’t actually mysterious or dark but hides things well even those which are unnecessary.

Sagittarius : The dork, makes everyone laugh. Gets good grades and has fun at the same time. Gives everyone at least 2 chances. Knows about whatever is happening around the world. Takes funny pictures.

Capricorn : Cold, the real devil. Thinks they can do whatever they decide but also they actually do??? Caring deep inside but will constantly insult you on the outside. Looks pretty w/o bathing too.

Aquarius : Smokes and drinks a lot, doesn’t finish anything completely. Has 2.5 crushes but will not want a relationship whatsoever. Knows about that one anime no one else watches and that turns out to be a nice one, best music taste. Isn’t not so pretty but dresses up rad.

Pisces : Doesn’t understand what’s going around. Eats very little, walks in a funny way. Hugs, bites, touches abruptly. Will pay for everyone’s coffee. Actually 7/10 times daydreaming. Feels tied up and low-key wants the same.

anonymous asked:

Gradence: in canon Credence was promised by Graves that he could live with him when they proved to the wizarding world that Credence was a wizard. Credence spent a lot of time with Graves. A LOT. And then when Grindelwald replaced him he knew something was wrong. He's a smart boy, an imaginative boy, his life turned upside down with magic. So why COULDN'T there be some way you could steal a man's face? (1/2)

So why COULDN’T there be some way you could steal a man’s face? When Grindelwald tries to manipulate him into sex Credence refuses, starts shouting that he’s not Mr. Graves, he’s not HIS Mr. Graves. And the obscurus comes out and fucking TEARS GRINDELWALD APART and reveals Graves trapped somewhere in the apartment. (2/2) 

“May I have a flyer?”

Y-Yes sir.

“Second Salemers, eh? What do your lot preach?”

There are witches, sir. They can set a curse on you, sir.  They marry the Devil, sir, and they carry out his evil deeds in the world against the good and God-fearing people.

They might steal your face and take your place. 

“And how does one spot a witch, exactly?”

I – I – Sometimes they have the mark of the Devil upon them, sir. A witch is wicked. A man or a woman.

(Ma says I might be a witch. The Devil is inside me, sir. I’m wicked, sir. You’d better get away before I turn you into a witch, too.)

Dark eyes peer back at him. There is no disgust, or incredulousness, or annoyance. They assess him for a long moment, before he sees something quite unexpected:


 “Credence, has anything – unusual ever happened to you? Something you could not explain?”

It is no use that Credence comes home empty handed. His mother sniffs his breath suspiciously and Credence awaits her verdict. Her eyes narrow.

Thief,” she hisses, and Credence unbuckles his belt. The taste of the sweet pastry he shared with Mr Graves turns sour on his tongue.

The next morning, Credence’s palms are dry and unmarked. There has been another gas leak in one of the factories.

 Mr Graves heals his hands, heals his back, heals his legs. He takes him to diners and repairs his clothes with a swish of his wand. When Credence still has a quarter-stack of pamphlets in his grip and the shadows of the skyscrapers shroud the streets, Mr Graves appears with a swirl of misplaced air to take them from him so Credence won’t get into trouble.

“Please,” Mr Graves pleads one night, as he runs the tip of his wand along the rungs of Credence’s ribs, “Come with me. If she does this again – if I couldn’t get here in time – “

The waist of Credence’s trousers is sodden with his blood.

Credence pads through the halls of Mr Graves’ brownstone. He tries his best to be a good houseguest; he makes the bed each morning, he irons Mr Graves’ shirts, he sets the table for their dinner each night. He reads all the books Mr Graves suggests and whispers the information back to himself, determined to learn, determined to fit in. In the evenings, he converses with his host about everything he’s learned that day – Magical History at first, and then all manner of creatures and plants and potions and spells that are so wild and fantastical he knows he isn’t dreaming, because he couldn’t possibly have dreamt of them.

He very determinedly doesn’t think about the little frissons of joy that explode in his chest when Mr Graves’ eyes widen in surprise, the way he smiles when Credence asks him little questions about wandwood and charmwork and magic. Guilt settles behind his lungs, but he likes making Mr Graves’ life easier, likes to thank him through little actions and services.

Steam billows out the open door of the bathroom. Inside, Mr Graves stands at the sink, frowning as he turns his head this way and that, examining his reflection. A straight razor and a brush sit on the counter. Credence twists his fingers anxiously in the doorway.

“Mr Graves,” he says, shyly, “Won’t you let me do that for you?”

Percival adorns Credence’s body with a dozen lovely bites and soft bruises that Credence will later trace with a sweet smile, every mark treasured. His caresses are roses blossoming across his skin, his palms the trellis from which they bloom. He savours the way Percival’s eyelashes tremble, how his hands cradle him reverently.  Each kiss against his skin is baptism, every brush of his fingertips is communion, and the look on his face when Credence sinks onto his thighs is absolution. If the worship of his body is religion, Percival is the high priest, guarding the temple of his body jealously for himself alone.

Credence has no more nightmares. There are no more mysterious gas explosions. Sometimes he wakes up, three in the morning, the pillow beneath his cheek wet and a monster sitting atop his chest. He imagines there are white eyes staring down at him from the darkness.

Percival nuzzles him sleepily, tugs him a little closer, presses a soft kiss to the skin of his bare shoulder. Credence winds his arms around him and closes his eyes.

Credence spends sunsoaked afternoons curled in the armchairs of their living room, long limbs tucked up and dripping curls of hair hiding his face as he sits engrossed in a textbook.

He has signed the forms Percival brought him; his name is now Credence Jones, an acknowledged Squib. Only he and Percival know better; Credence could probably power every spell in the Woolworth building for a week before feeling even the slightest drain on his magic. But he finds he quite likes being hidden away in Percival’s apartment, safe and secure and high above anyone who desires to hurt him or use his immense power for their own gain.

His eye catches on something long and complicated. Polyjuice Potion, it reads, and he skims it disinterestedly before flipping across to the much friendlier sounding Dragonfly Brew, which promises to give the drinker wings.

When Percival doesn’t come home one night, Credence doesn’t worry overmuch. He is used to his strange hours, waking up as the sun rises and Percival stumbles into bed.

His side of the bed is still cool in the morning, the sheets still carefully drawn up.

Credence spends the day fretting, at first burning breakfast, then attempting to wipe down the skirting boards. He manages to set the curtains on fire and has a heartstopping moment of terror when he can’t remember the Aguamenti spell and Percival isn’t there to help. The sun sinks over the horizon and Credence is pacing the hallway, agitated.

The key rattles in the lock and Percival walks in. Credence rushes at him with a cry, peppers him with kisses and soft touches. “Where were you?” he cries, clutching on the fabric of his coat, tears shining in the corners of his eyes.

“There was a case,” Percival says, oddly, stilted. “I’m sorry, dear.”

Credence sleeps fitfully that night. There is a knot wound tight behind his breastbone; it swells each time he inhales, crushes his lungs and his throat.

When he wakes up he is exhausted. The New York Ghost speculates on recent magical currents running the length of the island of Manhattan. Credence worries over Percival, pouring his coffee and packing him lunch. Percival looks at him blankly, presses a cool kiss against his forehead, and swirls away with silent Apparition.

Percival’s hands are heavy as they bracket his upper arms. He looms over him, caging him in against the back of the sofa. No, Credence thinks, heart thudding heavy in his chest. Blood rushes in his ears. Percival kisses him, but their teeth click together and Credence cries out, pulling away and bringing his hand to his mouth.

“You hurt me,” he says.

Percival blinks at him and his eyes narrow. His grip on Credence’s arms tightens and he draws himself in. “I’m sorry, dear one,” he croons. “You’re just – you’re so beautiful, you know I can’t possibly control myself around you. I’m sorry. Won’t you forgive me? Don’t you love me?”

Credence feels like the flame of a candle in a church, suffocated.

No, he thinks. This is not right.

– the Polyjuice Potion, which is a complex and time-consuming concoction. It enables the consumer to assume the physical appearance of another person as long as they have first procured the part of that individual’s body to add to the brew –

Credence closes the book slowly. His hands are shaking.

Oily smoke curls up from beneath his fingernails. Credence eyes it calmly, cold and unafraid.


It has been a while since I’ve done a guide. This guide is going to be less about how to write something specific and more about roleplaying and writing. I’ve been roleplaying since about 2009 and I’ve been writing since about 2008. I joined Tumblr for roleplaying in 2010 and started as an admin in 2014. Now that I’ve been an admin, I have a better since of what other admins look for in a para sample. For those who haven’t done a lot of roleplaying or haven’t done a lot of roleplaying that requires an application, hopefully this will help you out. 

So, here are my tips and tricks for a kick ass para sample that stands out.


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Devil’s Advocate - Chanyeol X Reader AU Series - Chapter 7

Vampire!Chanyeol X Angel!Reader

Genre: Action, fluff, angst, thriller

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Word Count: 3,070

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For the first time since you could remember, you slept peacefully.

You dreamed of home. Of the lush grassy fields that tickled your fingertips as you ran your hands across the brush. Of the sunlight that flittered through the mosaic of leafy branches that spawned from burly oaks. Of the bustling city life, full of seraphim working hard to bring justice and peace to earth. You were reliving the day when you first arrived on the job. You were in charge of aiding in the interrogation of a rogue seraph; one who had allegedly committed the homicide of a human by convincing them to jump off of a skyscraper. You were beyond nervous. Pushing your large-framed glasses up your nose bridge, you hugged the files you were holding closer to your chest. Then you opened the door. You expected to see the wanted criminal sitting down with his hands cuffed to the chair he sat on.

But you didn’t.

He wasn’t there.

No one was.

The only image you were greeted with was the violent, red flashing of lights as sirens began to sound.

He had escaped. It was your first day on the job, and the latent serial killer had escaped.

Your chest clenched painfully, suffocating the air around you. The red lights were flashing…



You jerked upwards, sitting up and gasping for air. Red light pulsated across the room in a steady rhythm, the alarm blaring dully in sync.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

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I reeeeally don’t want to be THAT person but I feel like it needs to be said.

I feel bad for Tamlin. And I can’t decide if I am pissed about that or not.

He found someone that he loved (in his own twisted, controlling way) who he believed was stolen away against her will. When she saved everyone UtM, he saw how deep her feelings for him ran and believed they were IT for each other. Heck, even Rhys believed she was happy! So it’s not like he was delusional. She really did love him like he loved her!

In his mind, she was stolen against her will, by someone who was completely and totally wicked, whose own court UtM was modeled after. Even when she sent him the note, even when she met Lucien in the woods, she could have been forced to behave that way! If there was someone who you loved, who had done THAT much for you that was taken, wouldn’t you do whatever you could to get them back? Even if it meant a deal with the devil? He believed she was with a complete and total monster!

Ianthe was one of his closest friends! Of course it would be hard to see her betrayal! He didn’t know what she was doing to Lucien and Lucien didn’t tell him! Even with her actions right in front of his face, like with the sentry, who would you believe? One of your closest and most trusted friends? Or an employee who might say anything to get out of his punishment? And don’t even think for a second that Ianthe wasn’t egging Tamlin on about Feyre the entire time she was with Rhys.

And THEN, you see that you weren’t treating the person you love the way they needed to be treated (we all make mistakes, guys!), so you try to fix that, only to believe that your OTHER closest friend, who you have already warned about keeping things strictly platonic, is all of a sudden touching them in ways that they won’t let you? Like, the nightgown thing with Lucien? Come on! That is sad! Then they run away together?

AND THEN, you find out that while you have literally been doing everything you can to get out of the deal you made to get them back, even if it means sacrificing some parts of your relationship, because you know that they will never forgive you if anything happens to the human on the other side of the wall, THEY THOUGHT SO LOW ABOUT YOU THAT THEY DIDN’T EVEN QUESTION IT! They truly thought you were that terrible of a person.

And let’s not forget, Tamlin saved Feyre when she went to rescue Elain and then, gave her the opportunity to keep her mate. All while she had torn his court to shambles, one of his best friends had been lying to him and manipulating him the entire time she was around him in recent years, and his other best friend had sided against him and thought that poorly of him too!

Tamlin ended up with NO ONE and he was just a guy, in love with someone else’s girl who made mistakes. :(

Tamlin might be the saddest part of the whole series for me. I want to keep hating him for what he did to Feyre and how he treated Rhys, but I just can’t! And I’m not exactly happy about that!

-higkey, thinking not only of his motherly nature but also how he can be a swindler at times…and in general
-you got yourself a protective yandere
-protecting you from anything and everything
-yes, even the littlest things
-“Stop following me around my own house, just get away from me!”
-“You know I can’t do that, honey.”
-Literally just makes you just sit down, in one place, while he does everything for you.
-it sounds like the high life, not being able to do work…
-no, it’s like you’re trapped in a prison which is your own house
-his only exceptions are obviously the bathroom
-otherwise, if you move…
-*shudders* should i go there?
-“i can be your angel…or your devil.”
-so protective, it’s like you’re just a doll
-but to him you’re his everything
-you slowly start to become crazy, trapped in your own thoughts from him not letting you go anywhere

“Excuse Me”

Summary: Soulmate!AU where first words are tattooed on wrist- Y/N hates the words on her wrist knowing that she may never meet her true soulmate. If fate didn’t want to give her a perfect, neat, assured happy ending, then she would be sure to raise a little hell on her way there.

Pairing: Preserum!Steve x Reader 

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1895

Originally posted by yikesevans

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anonymous asked:

Hiya! Do you know of any Richonne fics where Rick is super jealous of Michonne being with someone else? Or super possessive of her? Thanks!

Hi Anon!

Here is a link to our list of Jealous Rick/Michonne fics we’ve previously answered in the past for you. Plus, since we are always updating our lists, here are some new fics we’ve found for your request that we think you’d also enjoy:

In The Calm Before The Storm by jls62113

Just a quick one shot with Rick and Michonne at the Kingdom. They are there on business, but there is a little down time involved with just the two of them. Rick gets to see Carol, briefly.
Rated G

You’re so Jealous of Me by child_ofthe_sea

Au. Jealously makes Rick realize who he actually loves, but he may be to late to do anything about it.
Rated M

Green-Eyed Monster and Peppermints by 

Rick’s noticed that the men of Alexandria can’t seem to keep their eyes off of Michonne and he doesn’t like it one bit. When Daryl points out that he has no room to complain, will Rick stop his pouting and pull it together, or keep pining from afar?
Rated T

Sympathy for the Devil by TheBaeTide

The sheriff and the lawyer divorced two years ago and on the surface, they appear to be two exes who can’t stand each other, but underneath all the insults , there’s so much more going on. AU. No Walkers. 
Rated M

No Touch, ALL Talk, No Eye Contact by shaiwriter

Rick is feeling ignored. He wants all of Michonne’s attention and has thought of a brilliant way to get it. 
Rated E

Seasons Change by acuarella

Takes place in Alexandria. Season 5
Rated M

Opaque Tides by focusedOnProsperity 

Michonne is ready to relax in the Safe Zone, but she knows better. How will she and her group deal in a comfortable place, where walkers wait outside and humans scheme & plot?
Rated T

Happy Reading! 

I mean is SEVERELY disheartens me to see just how many people completely bought the exclusionists’s mogai smear campaign, from the truscum to the aphobes, to the point that even straight people and any other LGBTQ people think its totally acceptable to mock an entire community and whole identities because its popular and everyone is doing it so it /must/ be true. How many of those people don’t question tumblr posts of lies made up about groups the poster hates and they just take it as evidence. Its so fucking easy to demonize groups on here and to get everyone else to fall in line and react against them too. Its fucking disturbing.

If an exclusionist wanted to demonize intersex people, for example, it would take a short amount of time and not a lot of work.

First they would place emphasis on “cishet” intersex people (and completely deny/ignore the inherently different relationship with gender/sexuality because of being intersex,) and would post about them constantly, painting them as a devil because they’re evil “cishets” who pose some threats. Then slowly lose the “cishet” as they post, as their posts get circulated, and if called out on that, insist that it was implied.

Then they would find one to a handful of intersex people with negative qualities, spread callouts for them blaming their behavior on their identity and the intersex community even, and use it as proof of the intersex community being toxic and evil. They would even use anything they disagreed with from other intersex people, twist it to look as bad as possible, and frame them with diluted “evidence” as further proof of how terrible intersex people are.

They would make up stories of how intersex people were harming everyone behind the scenes so those that have no quarrel with us would feel vindicated in turning on us; accusations like “stealing resources that belong to other people,” and “being a conspiracy to secretly let in the straight oppressors because why else would they want to be in the community.”

Then they would write long and winding and even contradictory posts using words they aren’t fully familiar with but neither are most of their readers so they assume them to be correct, all talking about “privilege” and establishing intersex people as top of the pyramid, asserting their privilege on all below to get more of it.

They would then write ignorant and unresearched analysis’ of intersex as an identity, and how different it is from the rest of the community, and how it doesn’t belong, and how its “incoherent” and doesn’t even make sense as an identity, how its too broad and describes too wide an amount of people, and “lol by your definition most people are a little bit intersex anyway,” and wow its useless as an identity now it should just be erased, you should stop using it, some people have different genitalia and aren’t intersex so your label makes them feel weird and its inherently harmful uwu

And then “wow there really isn’t even much discrimination against it anyway, its all misdirected OTHER oppressions, like sexism or homophobia. Clearly you’re all pretending to have any oppression just to get into our club.”

I would bet everything I own that within a year of this behavior, mass amounts of people would believe I everything I just wrote about intersex people, without question, would demonize the community and any supporters, and think there was 100% proof of them being entirely correct.

You might think this is a reference to ace/aro treatment, and while I do believe that it would be almost identical because its involving identities that are closely related, let’s not pretend this behavior is exclusive to this. So many goddamn identities have been attacked exactly like this over our history, and it all repeats itself, over and over, because people fail to criticize the information they see, and are far too eager to jump on another group and attack. Every person I seem complicit in this behavior, towards any other group, feels like a knife in the back. Every person happily spreading those lies and buying them is just as actively violent as the ones who made them up. I’m so tired and honestly very depressed.